She remembered looking down at the figure on the floor. Remembered the repulsion she felt toward it. But what she didn't remember was allowing it into the house.

Normally emotions would never get in the way of helping an enemy in distress. It was just that no one deserved to look the way he did on her doorstep. Mangled and bloody.

Even today she could see him every time she closed her eyes.

At least that was what she told herself. She often wondered what would have happened if she had not let him into her house, into her life. (Playing the what - if game was never fun.)

He was bleeding all over, and to her it looked like he would not make it through the night. She tended to his wounds as best she could without the use of magic.

She supposed that she should have sent Dumbledore word that a notorious death eater had landed on her doorstep, but she was devoid of all rationality at that moment.

Her only task was ensuring that Malfoy lived, no matter how vile he was.

She bathed and bandaged his unconscious figure after half lifting, half dragging his limp body to a spare bed. She dressed his wounds only to discover more blood. Healing him was beyond her skill.

She stayed in his room that night. Listened to his feverish moaning in the dark hours of the night. Towelled his brow when he began to sweat, felt the heat of his body, warm with fever. The initial surprise came when she found he was still alive in the morning.

The next nights were spent by his side looking for some form of movement and dribbling a mixture of water and honey down his throat in hopes of keeping some form of strength with his body. By the second night he stopped muttering, and became rigid. The only sign that he was still alive came from the occasional rise and fall of his chest. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity his breathing became regular.

That was when Hermione allowed herself to relax. As much as she hated the man in front of her, she felt that not even he should be subjected to the torment

It continued for the next three days. On the third night it dawned on her how peaceful he looked. With his blond hair scattered around his face, and the look of contemplation on his face made Hermione truly believe that there may have been something more to him. The feeling only lasted until he finally woke up on the fourth morning.

Lucius had been falling. The man in the silver mask at the top of the building had told him that falling wasn't that bad...so he'd jumped. At first the fall had been leisurely, he felt that he could fall forever. When he began to fall faster, he heard the laughter.

The man in the silver mask was standing above him and laughing. He cursed and tugged at his robes only to discover that his wand had been taken.

Now there were more voices laughing, all around him. He looked up to see all the masked faces taking pleasure in his pain.

So he kept falling, there was nothing else he could do. But now he could see how close the ground really was. A pretty little street with pretty little house loomed before him. He thought is would be nice to stop falling and see what was in those houses.

The laughter grew louder. His brothers, they were all laughing at him. He wanted to curse them all. Make them fall. Then the muttering began. Quiet at first, almost unheard amidst the laughter.

Only one voice was clear.

Lucius looked up at the masks. In the middle only one was different. A pair of red eyes glared down at him.

"You disappoint me my dear Lucius. You never betray another one of your brothers."

A stream of green light shot from the clouds and caught Lucius in the chest. That was when he reached the ground….

The light was blinding. And it kept changing colours.

"Go away." He swatted his hand at is without much luck. It just kept getting brighter.

His eyes opened suddenly, blinking owlishly trying to take in it's surroundings.

Hermione stood in the corner unsure of what would he would do when he finally saw her.

He began to look around the room, his steel eyes confused as they began to survey their environment. When he finally saw her figure, for a moment his steel eyes betrayed him. The look was almost…fearful? She realized that she couldn't tell.

She moved a little farther from the corner slowly walking toward the edge of the bed. She stopped when he cleared his throat and groaned.

Recognition shone in his cold eyes like morning dew. "What the hell are you doing here Mudblood?" His voice was rough the sound grating like sandpaper.

Any warmth that Hermione had felt toward him vanished. "No Lucius," she spat with every ounce of disdain she felt at the moment, "the question is what are you doing here?" She hadn't meant to sound so cold, but knowing that this man fathered none other than Draco Malfoy made her blood run cold.

"How should I know that, stupid girl? What I want to know it why I am currently not in the comfort of my own home?"

"I should like to know the answer to that myself. You turned up here about 7 days ago. You were a bloody mess. Literally."

His eyes closed gently as he struggle to remember. Bits and pieces of the events formed in his mind but there was nothing concrete. He frowned. 'Something isn't right…"

"Even if I were as you put it 'a bloody mess' I assure you Miss Granger the last place on earth that I would willingly step foot into is this filthy shack you call a home." Even weak and bleeding the man could still come up with insults to keep even the strongest at bay.

She clenched her teeth. This slimy git was treading on thin ground if he didn't die of his wounds, she'd kill him herself. "Well I believe that you have found yourself in my home. Now please kindly try to remember why." She vowed to remain civil to him. No matter how he pushed her.

"I think I would rather not. I would rather be in the comfort of my own home." He sat up, managing to turn and plant his feet on the floor even thought his entire body screamed with pain.

She smirked. "Go on then, try to leave."

He shot her a stony look wanting nothing more than to hex that bloody smirk off her face. He stood, shooting her a look of triumph before he stumbled. She was by his side in a flash, helping him back into bed.

He rubbed at his forehead, cursing himself and whoever it was that had got him into this predicament. When he looked at, he found Hermione staring at him, a thoughtful look on her face, chewing her bottom lip in something that looked like concern.

"Are you alright Mr. Malfoy?"

"Like you care."

"As much as it may disturb you to think, if I didn't care for the predicament you find yourself in I wouldn't have let you step foot into the house. I could've let you die out there. God knows anyone in their right mind would have." Her last sentence was muttered, barely above a whisper.

The only answer she got were the long deep breaths that came from Lucius's now sleeping figure.

Later that day Hermione sucked up her pride and ventured into the room to take some food to him. It wasn't much in the way of a meal, a turkey sandwich, milk and an apple. Normally she would've loved to take out some time to make a meal but the presence of Lucius Malfoy had reverted her mind to simpler thinking.

When she walked in with the tray he was seated slightly up in bed staring at the wall with a look of contemplation. His chest was bare save for the tattered blood stained bandages. She would have to change them soon.

"Mr. Malfoy?" She could do nothing more than wish that he would just be civil toward her.

She was answered by his grunt. Taking this as an invitation she set down the tray next to him. "I just thought that you might be hungry."

He sneered at her comment internally grateful that she had brought him something to eat.

"Also if your feeling up to it there's a bathroom behind that door." She pointed to the door next to the open closet. "It will give you a chance to wash off the blood." With that she left the room.

Lucius hungrily took to the small meal that she had prepared. Her suggestion that she should have a shower suited his tastes as well. The faster he got better, the faster he could go home.

Waking up in her home, he had to admit had not been altogether a horrible experience. Even deep in his sleep he felt the warmth and love that had been poured into designing the house. His home was, and had always been dark, and he had kept to the tradition. His tastes were expensive, and looking around he saw that this home barely had any taste to it. From what he had seen to the confinements of his bed any way. He snorted at the pieces of mismatched furniture that had hurriedly been placed into the room.

Finally he moved a little to get up. His body and muscles internally screamed out in pain, but being the stubborn man he was he made his way over to the shower. He couldn't take the chance to apparate until his wounds were fully healed. Which meant he had to cosy up to the muggle born for a while.

'No matter,' he chuckled, 'I can be quite charming if the occasion calls for it. But to be friendly with filth like that will be exceptionally hard.'

Stripping off his clothes, he mad his way into the shower. He closed his eyes revelling in the feel of the warm water against his skin.

A strangled groan escaped his throat which he quickly regretted as he heard soft footsteps enter the room. A soft tap on the door, followed by a quiet voice greeted him from the doorway.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

He rolled his eyes. She couldn't let him a moments peace in the shower. He spoke softly, clenching his teeth together with all the courtesy he could muster. "Yes?"

"I heard you -" She paused. "Are you alright?" She voiced concern. When he didn't answer for a few moments, she continued. "I brought you a change of clothes. Seeing as you cannot continue to wear the same robes day in and out. Really are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine Miss Granger." He lied, his voice quavering. He had to lean back to close his eyes tightly to prevent himself from being sick. 'Oh the voices.' Pooling at his feet, diluted now with the hot water from his shower, all Lucius could see was the blood. So much blood.

Hermione waited that night until she was sure he was asleep to enter his room. He was quite a handsome man, but possessed quite a vicious tongue as well.

He was wearing the pants she had supplied, but not the shirt, his chest still bloody and scarred. The open wounds would heal, but he would be left with terrible scars.

Setting down the bottle of pain reliever by his bedside, Hermine took the bandages and the bottle of peroxide out of her pocket and began to cleanse the wounds. When she had finished she took some ointment and gauze and began to slowly wrap the material around his firm, thin abdomen muscles. She stepped back, clicking on the small bedside lamp to see whether she had missed anything. When she was satisfied that nothing that needed to be dressed was exposed, she stood back to admire her handy work. If her education had been of muggle stature she would have probably considered being a doctor. Maybe when she got back to Hogwarts, she would ask Madame Pomfrey to teach her something in the art of healing.

She jumped back when he groaned in his sleep, obviously remembering something very unpleasant. She finally had a chance after so long. For a moment she hesitated weighing the consequences of her actions were he to find out what she had been doing.

When she finally got the shake in her hand controlled, she gently placed her palm down on his forehead and closed her eyes.

A much younger Lucius stood before her, hair shorter and unkempt, grey eyes cold, the contemplative look on his face telling her that he was waiting for something.

As if on queue the door burst open to reveal a man with identical grey eyes and blond hair. She could see the anger radiating off him even before he spoke.

"You will do as I say Lucius. I didn't raise you all these years to have you disobey me in any way." His voice, though calm held a hint of hysteria.

Lucius sneered. "Do you honestly believe that I listen everything you say old man? "

The older Malfoy's face contorted itself into a further look anger before he slapped Lucius with all the strength he could muster. .

"You will not address my like that boy! For 19 years I have put a roof over your head and you repay me by speaking to me as such! You will do as I say! You will marry her Lucius. Trust my words son, I brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it." His last words were commanding, spoken icily, before he made his exit, black robes billowing elegantly behind him.

A dumbfounded Lucius slipped to the floor holding his cheek.

Lucius stood in the middle of a great hall, his light blond hair contrasting with his dark grey robes. The only light came from the window above in the cathedral ceilings. A few moments later the echo of heels was heard on the cold stone floor. Only when she approached him did the sound quiet down.

She stood in front of him head lowered, eyes closed, light blond hair glowing eerily in the moonlight. He drew in a sharp breath, awed by her beauty.

When he finally broke the silence, his hoarse voice was a whisper. "Look at me Narcissa."

She slowly lifted her head and he found himself looking into the identical grey depths of her eyes. He felt a pang of guilt as a stray tear made it's way down her cheek. "Lucius?"

He lifted a shaking hand slowly and touched her cheek gently wiping away the tear. "You understand that there is no way out of this situation. We will have to do this no matter what. If my father wills it…"

"There is no way out." She completed his sentence, her voice finally breaking down. He pulled her closer to him and stroked her hair letting her purge out the events of the week.

She wore a gown of the lightest blue. The blood red flowers that had been placed strategically around the hall contrasted with her appearance, giving her a look of the dead. He turned to look into her eyes, which had been darting nervously around the room, a look of fright in the depths. He could almost pity her.

Almost.

But those around him had become brothers. He watched though, with disgust, over those who stared at her deeply.

Hungrily.

During the ceremony she had clasped his hand so hard, that her long nails had left marks on the inside of his palm. Not that he could blame her. The voice of the wizard commanding the ceremony broke through his thoughts.

"Will you Narcissa share Lucius's pain, his joy, and his burdens and weight them upon your shoulders as your own?"

She closed her eyes, a tear falling down her cheek. "Yes."

"Will you Lucius, in return protect her from any ill that may befall her? "

Another tear.

"Yes."

"Then Lucius, I pronounce you husband and wife. May your marriage be long and ever lasting."

The silent tears, so controlled until now finally made their way down her cheeks one after another. He squeezed her hand gently, ignoring the look of helplessness on her face.